


Oh the Bliss

by SeedySins (ChangelingDreams)



Category: Far Cry (Video Games), Far Cry 5
Genre: Bliss (Far Cry), F/M, Feelings Realization, First Kiss, First Time, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Mutual Pining, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Resolved Sexual Tension, Smut, Unsafe Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-20
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-17 00:20:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29584347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChangelingDreams/pseuds/SeedySins
Summary: "You're alive," Sharky breathes, his eyes wide and frightened. "Thank God-"Rook parts her lips to say something, but the words crash and burn in her mouth as the grip on her face tightens, tilts it up, steel-grey eyes suddenly startlingly close. And then Sharky is kissing her, hard and desperate while his fingers tremble against her cheeks.
Relationships: Sharky Boshaw/Deputy | Judge, Sharky Boshaw/Female Deputy | Judge
Comments: 8
Kudos: 26





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Just some self-indulgent fluffy smut featuring a non-descript Rook (for all your OC insertion needs) and her favourite firestarter.

"Where is she?  _ Where is she?! _ " 

Rook is tugged from the green sparkly daze by a familiar voice, though she hasn't heard it quite like this before. When Sharky shouts at her, it's usually to inform her he's lighting up the flamethrower, or to let her know he's spotted a bunch of Peggies. His usual excitement is missing, replaced by a crack of panic. He sounds  _ scared.  _ Rook scrambles off the cot she'd been laying on for some reason, preparing herself for trouble. If Sharky sounds scared, an absolutely humongous amount of shit must be hitting the fan. 

"Sharky? What's going on?" 

She intends to shout back at him, wherever he is - the room she's in is empty, where is he? - but her words come out in more of a croak. Butterflies flutter at the edges of her vision as she looks around. Concrete walls and floors, a few cots, some dividers that block off sections of it. The prison, she remembers. She woke up in the Hope County Jail medbay with Chief Whitehorse and Tracey hovering over her, holding her down- 

Her hand moves up as the memory of a needle getting jammed into her sternum bobs up in her murky stream of consciousness. She winces when she touches her fingers to her chest. 

"Dep! Po-Po! Let me fuckin' through, Trace, I ain't gonna ask again-" 

"Sharky?" Rook calls out again, her voice a little more steady this time, but still ragged and hoarse. 

The sounds of a scuffle filter through the door - there's a door, of course there is a door, why did she forget there was a door? - and Rook takes a couple of wobbly steps towards it. She's feeling strangely untethered from reality, her body unwieldy to steer. Her vision is cloudy, and as another butterfly flutters past, shreds of memory return to her. The Bliss. The Marshall. Waking up feeling like she was going to float away from the earth, like a balloon that's slipped out of a kid's hand, the sky opening up above her to swallow her whole. 

The door slams open, and raised voices cut through the memory, banishing it from the forefront of her mind. 

"-been through, so don't you fucking go barging in there screaming your head off, Boshaw-" 

"Shorty?!" 

"-the man see her, Tracey. You know he-" 

The room slowly tilts off its axis, and Rook blinks, trying to keep her footing. 

"Shorty," Sharky pants, standing suddenly in front of her. 

"What's wrong?" Rook asks, startled all over again, her heart jumping in her chest as it starts to pump adrenaline through her veins. "What's going-" 

Sharky clasps his hands around her upper arms, steadying her, gripping her harder than is comfortable. Then they move to her shoulders, her neck, up to cup her face-

"You're alive," Sharky breathes, his eyes wide and frightened. "Thank God-"

Rook parts her lips to say something, but the words crash and burn in her mouth as the grip on her face tightens, tilts it up, steel-grey eyes suddenly startlingly close. And then Sharky is kissing her, hard and desperate while his fingers tremble against her cheeks. His beard scratches her skin and the brim of his cap jabs her in the forehead. His lips are chapped and rough, burning hot, and the smell of gasoline and fire and sweat hits her nose like the punch of a fist. Her heart slams against the inside of her ribs, and Rook freezes up in shock, feeling like the world has been pulled out from underneath her feet. After a moment that might last seconds or minutes, Sharky inhales sharply through his nose, and draws back with a sudden jerk. 

"Shit," he pants, his expression changing from panic to horror. "I didn't mean ta- Shit, sorry Chica, I-" 

Rook fists her hands into the front of his hoodie and pulls him back down without thinking, crushing their lips back together. Her head is full of green fog and bright sparkles and  _ need,  _ its fire racing through her blood now it's been ignited. Sharky gasps into her mouth, and then he makes a choked sound that hovers somewhere between longing and relief, and his hands are in her hair, the solid weight and warmth of his body pressed against her front. 

She winds her arms around his neck and pulls him closer, licks at the seam of his mouth. Somewhere at the far end of the room, the door is pulled shut, accompanied by an amused snort. The sound barely registers. Rook's senses are full to bursting with lips and prickling bristles, with warmth and touch and the familiar pungent mingling scents that smell like comfort and desire in equal measure. Sharky draws a shuddering breath and opens his mouth, and Rook licks hungrily past his teeth, slides her tongue against his, tasting him with a groan that resonates in her chest. His hands twine in her hair, tugging lightly in a way that makes her shiver with pleasure. She can't stop a whine from leaving her throat when they pull harder, holding her back. Sharky breaks free from the kiss with a gasp for air, his chest heaving against hers. 

"Fuck, Shorty, I don't think you should- Chief said Faith did a real number on ya, got you all Blissed out, I don't-" 

She chases his lips with her own, and he straightens up to his full length, leaning back a little to evade them. His hands leave her hair to settle firmly on her shoulders, fingers digging into her with the effort of holding her off. 

"You- you ain't in your right mind, Chica," Sharky pants. "I don't wanna- I mean, I  _ do,  _ fuck-" 

He lets out a shaky, forced laugh, eyes large with shock and pupils blown wide and dark with something else entirely. 

"Shit, I don't want you doin' anything you're gonna regret when this shit wears off, man."

"I want you," Rook murmurs, looking up at him with a mix of desire and confusion. 

Why did he stop? Kissing him felt so good, and she's wanted it for so long- She doesn't remember why she hasn't before. Having him this close feels right, like hugging him but better, closer, though not nearly close enough. And from the way he's pressed hard into her thigh, they're not nearly close enough for him, either. 

"That's- That's the Bliss talkin', sweethea- Shorty," Sharky tells her, leaning his head out of the way with a strained look on his face when she tries to kiss the underside of his jaw. 

"You want me too," Rook breathes, pressing her hips into his and rolling gently against his erection, trying to coax him back into kissing her. 

"Whoa, Jesus, Dep," Sharky gasps, jolting back from her as if she's stuck him with a pin. "That's- Look, that's a natural fuckin' reaction to havin' a beautiful woman getting all up on me, I mean- not saying I  _ don't _ \- Shit, I  _ really  _ ain't equipped for dealin' with this kinda thing. Have some fuckin' mercy on me, Chica."

He lets out another laugh, high and panicked, and grabs hold of her arms to drag them down from where they're circling his neck. 

"You think I'm beautiful?" she whispers, feeling her heart clench and flutter. 

Sharky stills, his hands clasped around her forearms while Rook's settle on his chest. 

"I-" 

He looks lost as he gazes down at her. Frightened, almost. 

"Shit, don't do this to me, Shorty," he says quietly, his voice tight and close to cracking. 

Pleading.

Rook's stomach sinks, shrivels up as she starts to realise what she's doing. She's- throwing herself at him, practically assaulting him- He doesn't want this. Of course he'd get hard when she's rubbing up on him like a fucking cat in heat. That doesn't mean anything. Just one body reacting to another, like he said. Doesn't mean he actually  _ wants  _ her to. What the fuck is she doing? He's her  _ friend.  _ All the reasons she couldn't remember before, all the reasons why she shouldn't act on the building attraction she's been feeling towards him for a while now, come slamming back down on her like a ton of bricks. The Bliss fog is finally fading, as if chased away by the shame creeping up on her. 

"I'm- I'm sorry," she says, feeling the blood drain from her face as she draws back. "I didn't mean to-" 

Sharky tenses, the lines in his face deepening. He looks off to the side, a muscle in his jaw ticking over as he chews on his tongue. 

"Yeah, I know," he says after a moment, his voice flat and hoarse. "Don't worry 'bout it, Dep. Fuckin' Bliss gets your brain all scrambled with that peace love and hippie shit, ain't none of your fault." 

He pats her awkwardly on the shoulder and takes a step back as well. Rook's throat aches with a sudden constricting dread, leaving her unable to bring out another word. 

"No harm done. Just- glad you're still with us, man," Sharky continues. 

He lifts his cap to comb his fingers through his hair, before pulling it back down over his eyes. He's avoiding looking at her. 

"Got me- got all of us real fuckin' worried there, Shorty. Thank fuck Trace and the Chief found you in time, though I'm gonna have to have a word with 'em about your ICE list. These fuckers better call me the instant they find you next time somethin' like this happens, though it better not, 'cause I ain't sure I can take you scarin' me like that again."

Rook swallows thickly as she listens to Sharky rattle off like a machine gun, clearly still shaken by what just happened. 

"I'm sorry, Shark," she croaks, feeling miserable. The Bliss comedown is harsh enough, but knowing she's upset her friend this much makes being plunged back into reality ten times worse than usual. 

"Not your fault, Chica," he says, reaching out briefly to touch his fingers to her arm, before drawing back again. "This is on Faith, marinatin' you in fuckin' Bliss for fuck knows how long- God, I hate her, have I mentioned that before? Couple more hours and you'd've been one of her angels, Tracey said, and I ain't fuckin' comfortable with how close I got- how close we got to losin' you."

Sharky shifts in place and stuffs his hands into his pockets, looking clearly on edge. He doesn't like being inside the jail, but he came here for her, because he was worried out of his mind about her - and then Rook had to go and practically jump his bones, making things even worse. 

"You, uh. You wanna get on out of here?" she says, trying to force her voice into something resembling a natural tone. 

"Fuck, yeah," Sharky breathes, letting out a strained sort of chuckle. "You good to leave though? If you need more time to like, convalesce and shit, I could hang around or whatever, or come back later if you gotta rest, whatever works."

Rook feels her lips draw into a crooked half-smile. Despite her fucking up like she did, he still defaults to talking about them as a unit. A team. She doesn't know what she's ever done to deserve a best friend like Sharky. 

"I'd rather rest up somewhere less…"

"Dungeon-ey?" he suggests, grinning a little. 

"Yeah," she agrees, huffing out a quiet laugh. 

"Let's roll then," Sharky says with a hint of relief. "Your chariot awaits outside the gates, ma'am."

He tips his cap at her and dips into a lazy bow, gesturing towards the door. Rook laughs, grateful for his attempt to leave what happened in the past and lift the mood by joking around. She wobbles on her legs while passing him. Sharky grabs her by the waist immediately, steadying her. 

"Whoa, easy Girlie. You sure you're good to leave?" 

She's the one to avoid his eyes this time. Having him this close now she knows how he feels, tastes- it makes her chest tighten with anticipation that shouldn't be there, her skin buzz with restless electricity. 

"I'll be fine," she mumbles, though she doesn't protest when he keeps an arm around her to help her stay stable. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Boner =/= consent, folks.


	2. Chapter 2

They run into Tracey on their way out, who raises her eyebrows at Rook in a suggestive sort of way. Rook's face burns with her sudden blush. She doesn't stick around to clarify that Tracey got the wrong idea of what happened inside the med bay. Just thinking about it makes her wince with regret and discomfort. Sharky gives her a little squeeze as they step out from the dim jail and into the sunlight. The sudden brightness makes her squint, colours blooming in her vision in a way that tells her she isn't fully out of the Bliss yet. It's sometime in the afternoon, judging by the position of the sun, and the buzzing of insects drones all around them as they make their way to Sharky's four wheel drive. 

"Where to?" he asks as he gets into the driver's seat, after making sure Rook is securely tucked into hers. 

"Somewhere with a shower and a bed," she groans, leaning back in her seat. 

Her head is still swimming, and the bright sunlight is hurting her eyes. 

"My place or yours?" he suggests without looking at her. 

Rook's stomach jolts a little at the question. She knows it's meant innocently enough, but in light of what happened earlier, her mind can't help but take things into a decidedly less PG-rated direction.

"Yours is closer," she replies, trying to sound like she isn't thinking about Sharky taking her home for other reasons than convenience. 

"Casa Boshaw it is, then," Sharky agrees, turning the keys and stepping the engine into life. 

The gravel of the jail's driveway crunches underneath the wheels of the car as they pull away from Cougar HQ, faster than strictly advisable. Sharky always drives like there's a fire somewhere he'd like to get to, and Rook gave up on trying to get him to slow down months ago. She lets her head roll to the side to stare out the open window. If it weren't for the occasional painted cult slogans defacing a passing billboard, or the burnt-out remains of a road blockade they drive by, she could pretend she's just out for a summer drive with her best friend, enjoying the lazy heat of the afternoon and the crackling tunes playing on the radio. 

Sharky pulls her from her almost dream-like state by clearing his throat. When she looks up, he's glancing at her from the corner of his eyes, but quickly returns his attention to the road ahead. 

"Just- wanted to apologise for what happened earlier," he says, with the halting rhythm of reluctance. "It was just, emotions running high, you know, thinkin' I'd never see you again, and then Tracey tryin' to keep me from seein' you like you an' I ain't- ain't practic'ly family-" 

His fingers drum restlessly on the steering wheel, and he's bobbing his head back and forth in time to the music playing on the radio as he talks, every fibre of his being projecting tension. 

"But like, I shouldn'a- done what I did, without your consent an' all, an' with you bein' all doped up on Bliss like that-" 

"Sharky," Rook tries to interrupt, but he shakes his head. 

"No I gotta- gotta take responsibility for what I done, it weren't okay what I did, an' I'm sorry, is what I'm tryin' to say. An'- an' when you went an'- reacted the way you did, I shoulda stopped you right away. Shoulda known it was the Bliss makin' you, uh. Respond. So, I'm sorry. That was- my bad, an' I understand if you're angry at me, an' I'll try an' make it up to you anyway I can, an'- I really hope we're not gonna stop bein' friends on account of what I done, an' also, thank you for not kickin' me in the gonads."

Rook draws a sympathetic breath along with Sharky as he gulps in a lungful of air. She stares at him for a moment, and he shifts uncomfortably in his seat, clearly agitated at her silence. 

"That's not- I didn't kiss you 'cause of the Bliss, Sharky," she blurts out, and he jumps a little in his seat, as if he's startled that she's not verbally dancing around the subject like he did. 

"Yeah, right," he laughs nervously, eyes flitting between her and the road. 

There's more wryness than humour in his voice, and the sound of it squeezes Rook's chest tight. 

"I didn't," she insists, wishing she could form a proper response rather than vomit up whatever thought pops into her head. 

"Like, no offense, Dep, but you sure as shit wouldn't be throwin' yourself at me like a two-dollar- like a pros- like a lady of negotiable affection, if you weren't green an' glitterin' like a goddamned Christmas tree, is all I'm sayin'."

"Why not?" Rook says, her blush burning up to her ears despite her best efforts to will it away. 

"What?" 

Sharky takes his eyes off the road to look at her. After a moment of mutual dumbstruck staring, the car swerves towards the middle of the road, and he catches the steering wheel and hauls them back into their lane with a frazzled curse while Rook lets out a startled yelp. 

"Jesus, Sharky," she breathes, heart hammering in her chest. 

"Sorry! Sorry!" he exclaims, getting the car's trajectory back under control. "Shit, please uh, don't write me up for that one, Dep."

They're both rattled, and they arrive at the Boshaw residence before Rook has managed to calm herself down enough to go back to what they were talking about. Sharky hurries over to the passenger side to help her out of her seat, and she gladly takes his hand to let him pull her to her feet, the world swaying merrily around her for a few moments. 

"Fuck, I hate that Bliss shit," she groans, rubbing a palm against her eyes. "Doesn't help my clothes are probably soaked in it."

"We better get you out of 'em," Sharky agrees. 

It takes him half a second before he realises what he just said, and when he does, he scrambles to clarify, his usual ramble turning so frantic it's more of a rapid-fire rattle. 

"I mean- get you into the shower, an' you can take 'em off- without me, just- before you get into the shower, cause why would I be in the shower, an' who fuckin' showers in their clothes, right?" 

"Right," Rook agrees, trying not to think about Sharky in the shower with her, clothes-less, because she wasn't thinking about it before but she sure as fuck is now. 

"Right," Sharky repeats, steering her to his front door. "An' I'll get you some stuff to wear for when you get outta the shower. Like, you mentioned a bed, you can use my bed if you want, without me in it of course, so I guess I better get you somethin' to sleep in. Ain't got no pj's I'm afraid, I'm used to sleepin' in the nude- not that I'm suggestin' you get into my bed naked-"

"T-shirt and sweats will do fine," Rook interrupts, taking pity on the way he's getting tangled up while trying to find his way out of the snarl he's talked himself into. 

"Right. Okay. I got those," Sharky says, sounding extremely relieved at getting saved from his own runaway mouth.

Rook sits on his couch while he fetches her something to wear from his bedroom, trying not to judge the empty bottles, pizza boxes and discarded items of clothing littered about the place. At least he's started making attempts at tidying up and cleaning since the first time they used his trailer as a rest stop. Sharky returns a minute later with a change of clothes for her, and hovers nearby as she makes her way to the bathroom. 

"Just toss yer clothes on the floor, I'll burn 'em later- don't think we're gonna get that shit out, just bein' near ya is gettin' me dizzy," Sharky rambles distractedly. "I ain't got no fancy flower-smellin' shit for your hair or anythin', just the ole soap-onna-rope, but I'm thinkin' you've smelled more flowers than you can stand for a while anyway. You ain't out in twenty Imma pop in an' make sure you ain't fallen an' hit your head, but I'll try not to see any pertinent bits if I do- uh, anyway, jus' holler if you need anythin'. Towels on the rack are clean. Mostly."

"Thanks," Rook says, smiling at him. 

Sharky nods and lingers in the doorframe for a moment, before nodding again and hurrying out, closing the door behind him. Rook eases out a slow breath and shrugs off her jacket, lets it fall to the grubby tiled floor with a sigh of relief. Her tank top joins it, and she's just about to unhook her bra when the sound of rapid footsteps drawing near gives her pause. 

"Oh, one more thing-" Sharky says, yanking the door open, before closing it again with a hasty _Shit!_

"Sorry!" he calls from behind the door. "Jus' wanted to know if you were feelin' hungry, 'cause I can get you somethin' to eat if you want, like, a pizza, or some hot pockets or somethin'-" 

"Maybe later," Rook calls back, wincing a little at the painful awkwardness between them. 

Sharky mutters something on the other side of the door, followed by a dull thud that sounds suspiciously like someone gently banging their head against a wooden surface in mortification. 

"Okay," he calls after a moment of pregnant silence. "I'll just go an', uh. Go."

"Okay," she replies, and listens for him to retreat to the living room before she resumes undressing. 

Rook gets into the shower without waiting for the boiler to kick in, gritting her teeth at the spray of cold water that hits her as she turns the tap. There's a reason she's never kissed Sharky before, as much as she's been tempted to try and get into the pyromaniac's pants over the last few months. Multiple reasons, even. Good ones. They're in the middle of waging a guerilla war against a cult of violent, murderous lunatics, for one. Any time spent navigating the rocky road of romance would be better spent on planning, preparing, scouting, _fighting_. Rook isn't the type for casual flings, either, and Sharky has made it clear on multiple occasions that when it comes to female companionship, he prefers to love 'em and leave 'em. There's other reasons too, like his devil-may-care attitude to law and laundry alike, the fact that she knows way too much about him thanks to his tendency towards oversharing, and the whole setting shit on fire thing, but what it really boils down to in the end is that Rook would rather have Sharky as a friend than risk messing things up between them. And apparently she was right in her caution, because now things are all awkward and tense, after just one fucking kiss. A kiss that makes her tingle and shiver just thinking about, her nipples hardening underneath the spray of water driving down on her - but still just a kiss. Well, two, technically, but whatever. The first one barely counted, as far as Rook is concerned. But the one after… 

_Nope nope nope. Not going there._

She turns the water to scalding and resolutely scrubs herself clean with Sharky's loofah and soap, does the best she can manage with her hair. The cooling water comes away a faint green as she rinses, and she stays in the shower until it runs clear, even after it loses all heat. She dries off with a scratchy towel, rubs her hair dry as best as she can, and dresses in the loose, oversized t-shirt Sharky provided her with. It comes down to her mid-thigh, and she decides not to bother with the thick sweatpants in the lingering summer heat. She leaves them folded on top of the toilet lid, and emerges from the bathroom in a cloud of steam, feeling better and almost completely clear-headed. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Charlemagne Victor Boshaw IV works hard at becoming a more enlightened man, and you can't tell me otherwise.


	3. Chapter 3

Sharky is sitting on his couch when she enters the living room, practically vibrating with barely contained energy as usual. He's tapping a foot and plucking at the upholstery of the couch's armrest, and when she walks up to him he jerks his head up as if he'd been lost in thought and her approach startled him. 

"Hey," Rook says, nervously running a hand through her damp hair. 

"Ngh," Sharky manages, staring up at her as if she came in wearing nothing at all. 

"...what?" she asks. 

She looks down at herself, suddenly worried she somehow  _ did  _ forget to wear anything, but the dark grey shirt covers her from neck to mid-thigh, baggy and shapeless and about as flattering as a trash bag. 

"s my shirt," Sharky croaks. 

"Yeah," Rook says, feeling like she's missing something. "You did give this to me to wear, remember?" 

"Hh," he wheezes, fingers gripping the armrest so tight his knuckles have turned white. 

Rook suddenly realises what's going on, though she still isn't entirely sure why. Seeing her in his shirt - nothing but his shirt - affects Sharky as much as the memory of the kiss they shared affects her. And maybe it's the Bliss lingering even after her shower, or the fact that this awkwardness sits between them before they even had a chance to enjoy messing things up, which is just plain  _ unfair,  _ but she can't resist the temptation to joke around a little. Maybe tease, just a bit. Testing. Hoping. 

"D'you want it back?" she asks with false casualness, taking hold of the shirt's hem and bunching it between her fingers. 

Sharky's mouth goes slack, and Rook's heart beats a little faster from the way his pupils blow out large and dark, leaving just a thin ring of steel grey around the black. He gapes at her for a long moment, and then looks away, lips pressing together into a thin line. 

"Look, I'm sorry an' all, but makin' fun a' me is takin' the whole payback thing a bit far, Dep," he mutters. 

Rook's face falls, and she lets go of the shirt, her hands hanging useless at her sides. 

"What's that supposed to mean?" she says, frowning. 

"You know what I mean," Sharky huffs, one of his legs bouncing in a way she knows means he's agitated. 

"I'm sorry," Rook says, and pads over to stand next to him, her fingers flexing nervously. "I'm not- I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

His answering snort of disbelief prickles her temper. 

"Look, I'm sorry, okay?" she says, a little louder than before. "I'm sorry for coming on to you like I did, I wouldn't have if I-" 

"-hadn't been high on fuckin' Bliss," Sharky cuts through her apology, sounding so bitter it makes Rook's stomach shrink in on itself. 

"-had known you didn't want me to," she finishes, out of sync with him and trailing behind. 

He raises his gaze to meet hers again, incomprehension written in every line of his face. 

"What?" he says, frowning at her. 

There's no swerving car to distract her this time, and Rook crosses her arms in front of her as she frowns back down at him. 

"Okay- You're right. I wouldn't have done what I did and said what I said if I'd had a clear head at the time," she says, trying to keep her voice calm and level. "But that doesn't mean-" 

She hesitates, anxiety gripping under her ribs and squeezing tight. If she says anything more, they'll be talking about it, bringing everything she's done her best to jam down as far as possible out into the open. 

"That don't mean what?" Sharky prompts her. 

He's staring up at her in a defiant sort of way, but his eyes twitch back and forth as he studies hers with an intense focus that is hard to miss. He looks… cautious. It's an expression that isn't at home on his face. Sharky is confident, free of fucks to give, and always utterly unapologetically Sharky. She hates how uncertain he looks right now. Like he can't help but hope for something, but is expecting a kick in the teeth instead. 

"That doesn't mean I wouldn't have wanted to," Rook says, hoping he'll hear her sincerity over the effort it costs her to get the words out. 

She watches something spark in his eyes, though it's shuttered away again just as fast. 

"You're gonna have to run that one by me again, Dep," he says hoarsely. 

Rook drags her bottom lip between her teeth and shifts her weight from one foot to the other, agonising about how much to say. Sharky's eyes are drawn down to her lips, and his tongue flits out to wet his own. The tiny gesture snaps something inside her, flooding her with sensory memory and dense, urgent want, and she takes in a breath as she throws her reservations overboard like unwanted ballast. 

"Did you want me to stop?" she asks him, her voice rough and uneven to her own ears. 

He forces a chuckle but doesn't look away from her, his eyes meeting hers again. 

"What kinda question is that?" he casts back, not quite managing the flippant tone he was going for. 

"The one that's gonna decide between me going to bed, and-" Rook pauses, looks over the edge of the precipice she's talked herself towards, and takes the plunge. "-and you joining me," she finishes, with a slight tremble in her throat. 

Sharky blinks, and as he stares mutely up at her for a long moment that stretches into a minute, Rook thinks she's straight up broken him. 

"Did you want me to stop, when I kissed you?" she repeats softly, forcing her hands to relax. Her nails have dug crescents into her palms with how tightly she's been clenching them. 

His silence stretches on, winding the tension so tight it makes her want to scream-

"No," he says, so quietly she can barely hear him, and her heart leaps up in her throat. 

"Tell me when you do," she says, face pricking and hands sweating and lips trembling, watching Sharky watch her as she cautiously moves to stand in front of him like he's a buck she doesn't want to startle. 

"Sharky?" she prompts him, when he doesn't say anything, just stares up at her with those wide, grey eyes, looking utterly gobsmacked. 

"Yeah," he chokes out, as if the single sound costs him great effort. 

Rook braces her hands on his shoulders and slinks into his lap, her heart pounding a rapid beat in her chest and head. The shirt rides up her thighs as she carefully straddles him, and Sharky makes a strangled sound at the back of his throat as she scoots forward, fitting herself snugly against his front. 

"Still want me to keep going?" she presses again, still worried about the way he'd seemed to panic back at the jail. 

"Fuck yes," he rasps out, his voice breathless but raw with conviction. 

Rook can't help but crack a smile as she leans in, cupping the sides of his neck with her hands as she slants her lips over his. It's a slow kiss, tentative and gentle, and Sharky makes that same soft sound of mingled longing and relief he did when she kissed him before, like a man parched with thirst taking his first long drink of cool water. It makes her tremble low in her belly, and she presses herself closer to him, chasing the way he fits against her and fills her senses. She sighs contentedly when his fingers twine into her hair, his lips parting as he licks cautiously at her teeth. She opens to him, moans softly as they deepen the kiss. Feels his breath shudder in his chest in response, the front of his pants thicken with pulsing twitches, until he's pressed hard against her. She sinks in deeper, wraps her arms around his neck and nudges her hips into his, and he responds with a quiet groan and a slow grind up into her, his breath quickening as his fingers tighten in her hair. 

Fuck, it's good. So good Rook finds herself thanking Faith for addling her brain with Bliss and letting this happen, because fuck it, either of them could die tomorrow or the day after, but at least they'll have had this. Sharky is burning up against her, and she wants him to press his fire into her skin with his fingers and lips and tongue. 

"Touch me," she breathes, moving against him with a slow roll of her body. 

He shivers and gives her what she asks, hands gliding down her back. She hikes the shirt up to her middle when his hands drift down towards her ass, relishes in the way he groans against her lips when they glide over her bared skin. She lets out a pleased hum as he digs his fingers into the curve of her rear, gripping her hungrily, and licks her tongue into his mouth with a slow, dirty swirl that earns her something close to a strained whimper. 

"Shit, shit," Sharky pants as she breaks away to let him breathe, sounding dazed and wrecked in the most wonderful way. "You're gonna make me shoot off in my fuckin' pants if ya keep this up, sweetheart, and I ain't too sure how many clean pairs I still got available, aside from how that's the worst kinda impression I'd like to make on you- well not the _ worst _ , there was that one time when I-"

"Shut up and take me to bed," Rook murmurs, dipping in for another long, drugging kiss before letting him come up for air again. 

"Yes ma'am," he breathes, and scoops his hands underneath her ass as he sits up, and then stands up, groaning as he straightens his back while Rook clamps her legs around his waist. 

"Fuck, I'm gonna feel that in the mornin'," he says in a tight voice, and she can't help but crack up, trying to hide her laugh in the crook of his neck. 

Sharky carries her to his bedroom, his beard rubbing coarsely against Rook's cheek as she shakes with barely contained giggles. 

"You're real fuckin' lucky you're cute, Girlie," he grouses at her before half-collapsing onto his bed with her. 

"You said I'm beautiful," she says, grinning up at him as he shifts his weight mostly off her. 

"Yeah," he says quietly, looking down at her with a slightly concussed expression, as if he still can't quite believe what's happening. "You are. Jesus, you are. So fuckin' beautiful."

Her grin turns into a shy smile under his almost awestruck gaze, his eyes soft as they travel over her face. 

"If this is like, the mother of all wet dreams, or somethin', I'm gonna be  _ so  _ pissed when I wake up," Sharky mutters, and Rook laughs again, pulls him down for another kiss.

The kiss turns into a heated play of lips and tongues, panting breaths against skin as their mouths wander, tasting, exploring. Rook tugs Sharky's hoodie and shirt over his head in one go, enjoys his gasped  _ shit oh fuck Shorty  _ when she kisses up his chest while he struggles to free himself from the bunched-up tangle. She discovers a tiny silver ring in one of his nipples, and gives it an experimental lick. His stomach jumps as he lets out a strangled moan, and she grins as she flicks her tongue over it again, making him shudder over her. 

"Sensitive, hm?" she purrs at him when he emerges from his cloth constraints, face flushed and breathing hard. 

"God damn, Chica," he pants, giving her a wild sort of look. "If you ain't gonna stop blowin' my mind every five minutes, there ain't gonna be much of it left." 

"Could always blow something else," she tells him, grinning wide. 

The warbling sound he makes in response is a thing of beauty. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Healthy communication and enthusiastic consent are my favourite kinds of dirty talk.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jamming a needle of anything straight into someone's heart only worked in Pulp Fiction. In real life, that's likely to kill you.  
> In this fic, Tracey thankfully hit a rib instead, and Chief Whitehorse had her give Rook a shot of Naloxene the regular way after setting his overzealous aide straight on proper medical procedure.

Rook doesn't get the chance to put her, well, mouth where her mouth is, because the moment Sharky works her - his - shirt up to her chin, he seems resolved to keep her on her back.

"Holy shit," he breathes, staring down at her naked body in a way that makes her feel like sex given flesh, Aphrodite brought down to earth and laid out on rumpled sheets in a trailer bedroom. 

"You're gonna make me blush," she tells him, squirming a little out of sheer delight at feeling this desired.

"Not the only thing I'm gonna make you do," he says, voice rough and low, and she gasps at how his growl travels straight down between her thighs, making her tighten around nothing. 

Sharky sets a hand on her side, over a fresh pink scar from when she slid down a roof and caught herself on a sharp edge of corrugated iron, and runs his thumb over her skin with a gentleness that makes her melt. 

"How're you even real," he murmurs, slowly drawing his hand up over her ribs. 

He pauses before his fingers touch the swell of her breast, looks up at her as if seeking permission. Rook makes a tiny sound of impatience and arches a little, and Sharky takes it as his cue to palm her with something reminiscent of reverence.

"Fuck, I knew you were gorgeous, Chica, but I didn't think you'd be this fuckin' perfect," he breathes, eyes drawn back down to where he thumbs lightly at her nipple. 

Rook catches her bottom lip between her teeth and watches him explore her, his hand gliding up over her collarbone and down again, mapping her shape by touch. 

"Thought about how I look a lot, have you?" she asks, her tone teasing. 

"Shit, you kiddin' me?" Sharky snorts, his hand wandering down to lightly squeeze her hip. "I been jerkin' it to the thought a' you pretty much exclusively since we started runnin' together." 

Rook blinks, caught by surprise by his answer. Sharky freezes and looks down at her like a deer in headlights, as if his admission hit him out of nowhere as much as it did her. 

"Uh, forget I said that, that was- probably super creepy an' shit-" he backpedals, expression turning horrified.

"More like hot as fuck," Rook whimpers, hooking a finger behind the chain around Sharky's neck to drag him down into a kiss. 

"Wait, for rea-?" he gets out before their lips meet. 

She clutches at his shoulders as she kisses him, and he braces himself over her, shifting on top of her a little while he returns the kiss with equal enthusiasm. His touch remains cautious at first, but he picks up in eagerness soon enough, gentle exploration turning into hungry groping. His mouth wanders from her lips to her chin, her throat, and Rook's breath turns quick and shallow as Sharky kisses down her collarbones, stopping at the dip between them. 

"The fuck happen here?" he grunts, drawing back to look at the deep bruise blossoming out from underneath the plaster Tracey stuck on the needle puncture over Rook's sternum. 

"Tracey got her CPR from movies," she pants, letting her hands roam over his back. "Broke a fucking needle on my ribs trying to stab me in the heart. Hurt like a _bitch_."

"Jesus," Sharky says, letting out a little incredulous laugh. "You sure you're uh, good to keep this party goin', sweetheart?" 

Rook's toes curl at the endearment, and she grins as she rakes her nails over his shoulders. 

"Definitely," she purrs, enjoying the way he shivers under her fingers. 

He brushes a featherlight kiss over the bruise and continues on his way down, pausing to lavish her breasts with attention. She gasps with pleasure as he swirls his tongue around her nipple, slips her fingers into his hair and tugs lightly. 

"Sensitive, huh?" he grins, briefly flicking his eyes up to meet hers. 

"Fuck, Sharky," she breathes, and whimpers as he turns to her other breast, sucking its stiffening bud into his mouth. 

He's either having the time of his life or is dead set on teasing her into mindless arousal, because he doesn't let up until Rook is a quivering mess underneath him, skin singing and nipples almost painfully hard from being played with. 

"God, I fuckin' love your tits," Sharky groans when he comes up for air, squeezing the targets of his focus with both hands. "Always been more of an ass man, but these sure as fuck could convert me-" 

"If you don't get your mouth between my legs soon I'm gonna sit on it," Rook groans, squirming and squeezing her thighs together.

Sharky makes a choked sound of arousal and digs his fingers into her hips, leaning his forehead against her stomach for a moment. His cap is knocked askew as he does, and Rook slides it off his head, preventing the rim from jabbing in her ribs. 

"Tryin' not to jizz in my pants here, Shorty," he grits out at her navel. "Preciate it if you'd stop takin' shots at my ship before it's had a chance at sailin'."

"Then don't make me beg for it," she says with a tight voice, nudging his head down with her hand. 

Sharky breathes out a tense string of profanity and braces himself on his elbows, shimmying down the length of her body until he's face to pubes with her mound. Rook parts her legs for him, slides one over his shoulder, and he clamps his hands around her thighs, pulling her down the bed and closer to him with a rough jerk that sends a jolt of arousal down her spine. 

"All you had to do was ask," he pants, and leans in to drag the broad of his tongue from the edge of her slit all the way up to her clit. 

Rook shudders out a moan, twisting her fingers tight into Sharky's short hair as he laps at her, slow and thorough. His beard scratches pleasantly against the insides of her thighs as he delves into her with his tongue, and the small grunts and hums of enjoyment he makes between her legs make them quiver against the sides of his head. 

"Shit, that's good," she gasps, arching and squirming with pleasure when he sucks her clit into his mouth. 

Sharky looks up at her as he rolls his tongue over the sensitive little bundle of nerves, and Rook whimpers at the sight of him between her thighs, eyes dark and hungry. He eats her out with more enthusiasm than skill, but she's primed and sensitive and almost delirious with how much she wants him, and when he slides a finger inside her she tosses her head back and moans his name. 

"Fuck, _yes,_ " she keens, fisting one hand into the sheets underneath her while the other grasps tight into his hair. "M-more, please, _more-_ " 

He groans into her folds and works another finger inside her, fucks into her with steady, firm strokes that have her trembling and writhing. 

"You taste so fuckin' good, sweetheart," Sharky pants urgently when he draws back briefly to gasp for air. "God, please come for me, please-" 

He shoves his face back between her thighs, twists his fingers into an angle that has Rook buck her hips up into his mouth, and sucks at her clit until she's moaning with every breath, high and shivery and thoughtless, riding his fingers and mouth until the dense pleasure gathering at the base of her spine draws tight and snaps, and bliss that has nothing to do with flowers pulses tightly through her core. 

"Oh, _shit,_ " she hears Sharky gasp, muffled from the way her thighs are squeezing against his head. 

Rook shivers and jerks as her climax rolls through her, whimpering each time her inner walls clench down on the fingers inside her. She forces her thighs to part as soon as she is able to, but Sharky keeps his head firmly between them until he's eased her through her orgasm, his tongue soothing her with gentle strokes. He slips his fingers out of her after she's stopped clenching down on them, and sucks them clean one by one with every sign of enjoyment. 

"Holy shit," Rook breathes when she finds her voice again. 

"Holy shit," Sharky agrees with her, sounding as out of it as she does. 

They laugh at the same time, his rough chuckle warm underneath her breathy giggle. 

"Wow," she huffs out, letting go of his hair to pat his head. 

"I aim to please," he hums, pride curled contentedly in the rumble of his voice. 

"I'm never doubting your commitment to equalism again," she says, bringing her hand up to wipe a few sweaty strands of hair out of her face. 

"Happy to demonstrate anytime, whenever you're in need of a reminder," he tells her, and kisses a trail up from her mound to her navel, letting his tongue dip briefly into it. 

Rook sucks in a breath as the muscles in her stomach jump at the ticklish contact. 

"Anytime?" she can't help but ask. 

Sharky looks up at her, lips glistening and beard wet with her slick, and grins his teeth bare. 

"Anytime, Chica."

She reaches her arms out to him, and he moves up to brace himself over her, dipping down to kiss her when she tilts her head up. The musky flavour of her release lies thick on his tongue, and it's the headiest thing she's ever tasted, making her hum in the back of her throat. 

"I'll hold you to that," she murmurs against his lips when he draws back to kiss her neck. 

"Trust me when I say I look fuckin' forward to it," he says, before sucking lightly at the pad of flesh between her neck and shoulder. 

Rook lets herself sink into her afterglow, Sharky's continued ministrations making her body sing with contented pleasure. She can feel his erection press against her hip, and moves her hand to run a curious finger over the hard line of his dick, straining against the front of his jeans. He groans and pushes gently into her hand, head falling down to lean against her chest. 

"Shit, I want you so bad," he rasps out, his breath hot on her skin. 

"All yours," she murmurs, pressing the palm of her hand against his covered length. 

Sharky lifts his head to look at her, and there's something hesitant mixed into the blatant desire in his eyes. Something that reminds Rook of the almost frightened way he'd looked at her when she'd asked him if he really thought she was beautiful, back at the jail. 

"What's up?" she says, drawing her hand back and trying not to let the worry tugging at her mind turn into full blown anxiety. 

Was it what she said? That she's all his? Did it set off warning bells in his head, the commitment it implies? Is he starting to regret this already? 

"I- probably shoulda said somethin' before we uh, got this far," Sharky says, fanning Rook's anxiety into a sudden flare of panic. "But you're- kinda fuckin' hard to resist, an' I wasn't exactly thinkin' with the bigger head, not that I am now, but- I think I should really, clear somethin' out before we take this any further."

Rook's heart sinks into her stomach. She should have expected this. She's an idiot for thinking a kiss would change anything - well, several kisses and a lot of groping and some rather excellent head - or letting herself pretend that it would. Sharky looks away from her, and she feels her insides shrivel and clench miserably, preparing for him to tell her this is just a bit of fun, that it doesn't mean anything, that he's happy to be friends with benefits but that's where it ends. 

"I think I'm- kinda, maybe, sort of in love with you," Sharky says, sounding like he's having to drag each word off his tongue. 

Rook's lungs still as she forgets to breathe, her thoughts going completely quiet as she looks up at him. 

"I get if you'd rather not-" 

He sucks in a breath, turns his head to face her again with a visible effort of will. 

"Like if this makes shit weird, I mean it probably does, fuck. I shoulda said somethin' sooner. I mean, if you still wanna- I sure as shit ain't gonna turn you down, an' I'm not- not gonna expect anythin' from you, 'cause you're my best friend an' like hell am I gonna do anythin' to fuck that up, unless I already did, I guess."

He gives her a helpless sort of look, and Rook can't do anything but stare back up at him, stunned into silence. 

"Right," Sharky says after a moment, the silver in his eyes dulling to a flat grey. "Yeah, I figured-" 

He makes as to sit up, and Rook's hands are clasped around his shoulders before she's aware she moved them, stopping him. 

"Me too," she blurts out, realising she means the words the moment they leave her lips. 

Sharky is her best friend, she loves him like he's family, he makes her stomach flutter and her heart sing and she really, _really_ wants to fuck him - if that doesn't count as being in love, she doesn't know what does. 

"You do?" he says, blinking down at her in shock. "I mean- are? Are you? What- no shit? _Me_?" 

"Yeah," Rook breathes, feeling like her lungs are swelling in her chest, nervous electricity racing through her veins. 

"But- when you said you wouldn't've kissed me without the Bliss-" Sharky argues, looking baffled. 

"I didn't think you'd be up for anything more than being friends with benefits," she says. "And I want-" 

She searches for the right words, watching Sharky stare wide-eyed down at her, his pulse a rapid drum under her fingers. 

" _More,_ " she says quietly, hoping it's enough to convey what she means. 

They look at each other, barely a full breath between them, and Rook's blood pumps audibly in her ears as she watches Sharky's throat work on a swallow. 

"Sure as fuck wasn't expecting that," he says, his voice cracking on the last syllable, and lets out a laugh that sounds more like a sob as he leans down to kiss her. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sharky looking down between Rook's open legs: finally, some good fucking food.


	5. Chapter 5

Rook's head spins as Sharky kisses her hard, every bit as desperate as the first time he did, when he'd feared he'd lost her and was beyond himself with relief that he hadn't. This time, she doesn't hesitate to return the kiss. She pulls him down on top of her, wraps her arms around him, hooks a leg over his hip - wanting him closer still. The buckle of his belt digs painfully hard into her pelvis, and she drags a hand down his back and towards the front of his jeans, trying to get her fingers between their bodies. 

"Pants. Off," she gasps into his mouth, rolling her hips up into his to make sure he gets what she's after. 

"You had me so fuckin' scared sweetheart," Sharky groans, lifting his hips and helping Rook slip his belt through its buckle. 

He peppers her face with kisses while they work the front of his pants open, pull the baggy shirt over her head and toss it aside. She catches his lips with her own whenever she can, unwilling to part for longer than strictly necessary. 

"When you didn't show up at the 8-Bit,  _ fuck _ , you're never fuckin' late, and noone had seen you since the day before- An' then we got word the fuckin'  _ cult _ had you, an' all I could think was I weren't ever gonna see you again." 

His voice cracks again, breaks into a choke. Rook cups Sharky's face between her hands, coaxes it back so she can look at him. His eyes are strained and glisten with moisture, and he takes her face between his hands in turn, strokes his calloused thumbs gently over her cheeks. 

"Or worse, I'd see you again with your eyes all white an' empty, an' I would- I'd have to-"

"I'm here," Rook tells him, her own voice wobbling dangerously. "I'm here, you've got me. I'm not going anywhere." 

Sharky kisses her again with shaking lips, draws back to press his forehead against hers. 

"You better fuckin' not," he rasps out. 

"I'm not gonna let Faith or any of the Seeds or their fucking Peggies take me away from you," Rook assures him, conviction steeling her voice. "I'll kill every last one of those fuckers if I have to."

"And after?" Sharky asks, leaning back to search her face, his own so open and vulnerable it makes her heart clench. 

"You kidding me?" she says, smiling up at him, because this is one thing she can promise him with one hundred percent certainty. "I'm your girl, babe. Cult or no cult. Ride or die, now 'till the end of the fucking world."

He chokes out a laugh of relief, presses a kiss to her lips and smiles into it. 

"You're my girl," he mutters, sounding simultaneously on the brink of tears and the happiest she's ever heard him. 

"I am," she confirms. 

Joy bubbles in her chest as it hits her that this is real, this is actually happening, she took the leap and somehow missed the ground and now she's flying. And maybe she'll crash and burn at some point, but she doesn't care anymore. She can't think of anything that would make feeling like this not worth it. 

They take a while getting Sharky out of his pants and shoes; forgetting their goal over and over again in favour of kissing, feeling, holding each other close as if they need to reassure themselves the other is still there. Rook's hands roam eagerly over every inch of him she can reach, and Sharky shudders under her touch, leaning into it as if she's feeding a need he's been carrying under his skin for far too long. They're both panting again when they finally work his boxers down his hips. Rook slides her hand down to feel him hot and heavy in her palm, and he breathes out a low moan at the contact, his length twitching eagerly against her fingers. 

"Should I- get a rubber?" 

His voice is tight and tense, and when Rook shakes her head he groans into her neck, soft and needy. 

"I'm clean," she pants. "You?" 

"Ain't had a chance to pick anythin' up since last time I got tested, but uh, I ain't lookin' to saddle any kid with me as their father-" 

"That's taken care of," Rook assures him. 

"Okay, cool, 'cause I'm not sure any of the ones I got layin' around are still inside their expiration date-" 

He breaks off into a hiss when she curls her fingers around his cock and guides him to her entrance, biting her lip as his blunt tip nudges against it. 

"Fuck," Sharky groans, bracing himself over her with one hand wound into her hair. 

"That's the idea," Rook breathes. 

They both let out a shaky laugh, breaking off into a simultaneous moan as he presses forward, nudging the head of his cock inside her. 

"Oh god," Rook whimpers, clamping her arms around his back. 

"S-shit," Sharky grits out, his teeth pressed against the side of her neck as he pushes in deeper. 

He works himself inside her with tense, almost jerking rolls of his hips, like he's desperately holding off on rutting into her like an animal. He's no bigger than average, but thick, and Rook moans breathlessly as he stretches her, the pleasure of being filled singing through her body and making her pulse with dense want. 

"Fuck, you feel so good," she keens, and his hips stutter as if her praise is enough to get him dangerously close already. 

"Don't know how long I'm gonna last," Sharky groans, voice strained with effort as he starts to move. 

"Don't care," Rook pants, and pulls him in for a kiss, eagerly meeting his tongue with her own. 

The bed creaks underneath them, setting the rhythm that accompanies their muffled moans as rolling motions turn into deep thrusts. Rook's fingers dig into Sharky's back as he drives into her. His hand tugs at her hair in turn as he crushes his lips against hers, breathing hard through his nose while his throat vibrates with a growl that makes her shiver. The creaking of the bed grows louder as he thrusts harder, faster, until he's frantically pumping into her and Rook's moans turn into a whine of pleasure. 

"Shit,  _ shit,"  _ Sharky groans into her mouth, grabbing her hip so hard it almost hurts, his voice punched out of him with each thrust. "I'm gonna- gonna come-" 

Rook wraps her legs around his waist and squeezes him, her nails digging into his skin. 

"In me," she gasps, and moans as he slams into her with a hard shout almost instantly, his cock pulsing inside her as he fills her with his spend. 

She holds him through it, kissing his forehead and temple and delighting in the way he shudders and jerks and chokes out helpless little moans. His gasped breaths ease to spent panting after a minute, and Rook hums contentedly as Sharky lifts his head from the crook of her neck to kiss her, slow and thorough. 

"Goddamn," he rasps when they break apart. "I ain't busted that hard in-  _ ever. _ "

Rook can't help but huff out a laugh, her grin tugging at her cheeks so hard they ache.

"You're such a sweet talker," she tells him, running a hand through his sweat-damp hair. 

"Hey, I can do sweet talk," Sharky protests, bracing himself on his elbows to take his weight off her. "I am  _ excellent  _ at sweet talk, I'll have you know."

"Yeah? You gonna put your money where your mouth is, Boshaw?" 

She crooks an eyebrow up at him, and he dips down to touch the tip of her nose with his. 

"Put my mouth anywhere for you, babe," he tells her, giving her a confident smirk. 

"That's dirty talk, not sweet," Rook snorts. 

"Okay. How about-" Sharky cards his fingers through her hair, voice soft but still rough from his high. "-you're more beautiful than a god damned wildfire, sweetheart."

Rook's grin melts into a smile as she watches Sharky look down at her with a warm, soft expression on his face, eyes half-lidded in his afterglow. 

"You light up my fuckin' sky, the way you level anythin' you come across. The moment you rolled up an' took out those angels with me, I knew I wanted nothin' more than to let you burn me up."

Her heart stutters in her chest as he strokes his fingers down the side of her face, touching her like she's something precious. 

"That's a pretty violent thing to call a girl," she whispers, not trusting her voice not to wobble if she tries to speak out loud. 

"You're a pretty violent thing, Chica," he says, his voice glowing with affection. "God damned force a' nature. Ain't never seen anythin' like it. But it's not just 'cause you like fucking shit up- it's cause you care. You care so fuckin' hard for people." 

Sharky draws a breath, his brows knitting together into a more serious expression, something earnest and sincere. 

"Ain't noone ever cared that much about me, either. Shit, prob'ly don't deserve how much you care about me. Sure as shit don't deserve any of  _ this _ ."

He lets out a little laugh, touches his nose to hers again. His eyes are so soft she could lose herself in them, and Rook blinks rapidly a few times to clear away the moisture gathering on her lashes. 

"Not that I'm complainin', mind you," Sharky adds, dipping in to press his lips against hers. 

"Alright," Rook murmurs when they part for air. "Maybe you're pretty decent at sweet talk."

"You bet your ass I am."

He gives her a self-satisfied grin and shifts a little on top of her, making her hiss quietly at the slight drag of him inside her. 

"Much as I'd like to spend the rest of the day, or like, my  _ life,  _ inside you- You'd best be gettin' some rest now," Sharky says ruefully. "Lemme grab you somethin' to uh, clean up my mess."

Rook nods, and he pulls gently out of her after another quick kiss to her lips. She cups herself to stop any spillage and lies back as she waits for him to return from the bathroom, staring up at the stained trailer ceiling and basking at the wonderful, contented glow that sings through her body. This was… nothing like anything she expected. And instead of being riddled with anxiety for what the future holds - as far as Sharky and her are concerned, at least - all she feels right now, is hope. Hope that things will work out, somehow, despite the fact that not all her worries have been wiped away. 

"Here ya go, wildfire," Sharky says as he hands her a warm, damp cloth, before tossing the towel he brought in with him onto the nearby dresser. He's wearing the sweatpants she left behind in the bathroom and nothing more, and she finds herself drinking in the sight of him, studying the tattoo wrapping up his left arm and the soft hair covering his chest and part of his stomach. 

"What?" he asks, giving her a slightly uncertain half-smile. 

"I just love you," Rook says without thinking. 

Sharky stills, stares at her. She stares back at him, finding herself oddly lacking any regret for what she said. She does love him - as a person, as a friend, maybe more. Probably more. 

Definitely more. 

After a moment, he breaks into a wide, happy grin. He practically jumps onto the bed to kneel at her side, making it creak so loud Rook worries for a moment that it's going to collapse, and leans in to kiss her so fervently it takes her breath away. 

"One love, Shorty," he says when he draws back, making her snort out a laugh. 

"You're such a dork," she says fondly. 

"An' you love it," he grins, laying down on his side next to her. 

"Yeah. I do," Rook smiles.

She cleans herself up while Sharky makes no effort whatsoever to hide the fact he's ogling her, his eyes roving over her body until she pulls his shirt back over her head. 

"Aw come on, you don't need that," he says, tugging at the hem of the shirt as she rearranges herself on the bed. 

"Think I do, if I want to get some actual rest," Rook replies. 

She gently prods the front of his sweat pants to demonstrate her point, where his is already tenting the fabric again.

"Okay, maybe you're right." Sharky gives her an unapologetic grin. "I'll leave you in peace, then. If you want?" 

Rook smiles at the hint of hope curving the end of his sentence up. 

"You can stay, if you promise to be good," she says.

"Afraid that ain't ever gonna happen Chica, but I can promise to keep my hands to myself until you're rested up."

He holds up his hands and tilts his head to the side, offering up the compromise. 

"Good enough," she decides. 

She makes herself comfortable against him as he gathers her up in his arms, smiles at the kiss pressed to her temple. 

"Maybe we should send Faith a fruit basket," she muses. 

"That girl's already a fruit basket," Sharky snorts, and Rook rests her head on his chest and laughs, her heart lighter than it has been in ages. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> Leave a comment if you enjoyed, or just want to make my day ^^


End file.
